Sick and Tired (and Worried)
by bandgeek18
Summary: Oliver has never dealt with a sick kid before and handles it as well as could be expected. One-shot.


A/N: So this is a story idea I got while I was too busy to write last week. But I had time this weekend, so enjoy!

Oliver sighed as he knocked on Roy's bedroom door. "Roy," he said. "I know it's Saturday, but you can't sleep all day." There was no reply. "Roy." Oliver waited a few seconds, then opened the door. As he'd suspected, Roy was still in bed. "Alright, it's almost noon. Time to get up."

"Hmm…" Roy moaned. "Don't wanna…"

"And I didn't want to see that romantic comedy with Dinah last weekend. LIfe's not fair." Oliver grabbed the comforter and dragged it off the stubborn kid, who curled up. "Come on, Roy. You have to at least be hungry."

"Not really…."

"Roy-" Oliver's next sentence was cut off when he put his hand on Roy's face. "Jeez kid, why are you so warm?"

"I don't know…." Roy coughed, which quickly turned into a hacking sound. "My chest hurts…"

"Hmm." Oliver felt Roy's forehead and his frown deepened. 'Damn, this kid's burning up.'

Roy coughed and his face scrunched up in obvious discomfort. "Sick…"

"I realize you're sick." Oliver covered him up again. "Ok, uh… I'll just let you sleep and um…" He rubbed his goatee. "Water? Or soup?"

"Not hungry…" Roy pulled his blanket up over his head. "Cold…"

"You can't be cold."

"Cold, Ollie…" Roy's head poked out from under the comforter. "Want a blanket…?"

Oliver sighed, then rummaged around in his ward's closet. He pulled out two extra blankets, then handed one to Roy, who took it wrapped himself up in it like a burrito. "Better?"

"Cold, Ollie…"

"Still?" Oliver looked around and saw the boy's Navajo blanket draped over a chair. He grabbed it and spread it out on top of the large bundle of blankets that occupied Roy's bed. The 12-year-old had disappeared under the pile again. "Better now?"

"Hmmm."

"Ok. I'll get you some water and… No soup, so….an ice pack?"

"H-" Roy's repose was cut off by more coughing and hacking.

"You ok under there?"

"Yeah…"

"Ok." Oliver left to get water for Roy. 'Ok, so he has a fever, but he's cold. And he's coughing. He doesn't have an appetite." Unfortunately, soup and water was the extent of his knowledge about how to take care of a sick kid. "Am I supposed to take his temperature? I don't even have a thermometer. Do I? I don't think so." He filed a water bottle with ice cold water and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. "Hopefully, this will make him feel better." Oliver hurried back to Roy, who hadn't moved from under his blankets. "Roy? Come out, kid."

Roy coughed. "Don't wanna."

"You need to drink something." Oliver waited a few moments, but when he didn't get another response, he pulled back the blankets slowly, one by one. "Here, drink something." Roy shook his head, then coughed. "You have to drink something, Roy."

"No…"

"Here." Oliver held out the end of the water bottle and bounced it a little, trying to tempt the kid to drink a little. "Come on…"

"No…"

"Ok, fine." Oliver laid the bottle down next to Roy, then pressed the ice pack against his face.

"Stop-" Roy's complaint was cut off by more coughing. He grimaced. It felt like someone had a vice grip on his lungs to keep him from breathing. He closed his eyes and pulled himself back inside his multi-layer cocoon. His eyes fell shut and he didn't have the energy to open them again.

Oliver watched him for a few seconds before he sighed and rubbed the blanket cocoon. "Ok just sleep, kid." He pulled the other blankets back over his sick ward. 'Hopefully, he just needs to sleep.' Oliver stood up. 'Yeah, sleep. Some sleep will do him some good.'

— —

It was quiet for the rest of the day. Oliver checked on Roy periodically, but the boy never emerged from his cocoon. Having no clue what he was supposed to do for a sick kid, Oliver left him there. It was almost dinner time when Oliver saw Roy again. He was watching tv in the living room when his ward shuffled in, his Navajo blanket draped over his shoulders. He didn't say a word when he climbed onto the couch, right into Oliver's lap.

"Really, Roy?" Oliver asked with a note of incredulity. "You're going to be a teenager in less than half a year."

"Mhm…," Roy mumbled. The blanket slipped off his shoulders as he reached up and wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck. He nuzzled his face into man's collar bone.

"Why are you still so warm?" A shiver went through Roy, so Oliver grabbed the blanket and pulled it over his shoulders. "Are you really cold?"

"Mhm-" Roy started coughing and hacking so much that Oliver was compelled to rub his back in sympathy. When he finally finished, Roy collapsed against Oliver like the coughing had taken every ounce of energy he had.

The frown on Oliver's face deepened as he listened to Roy's breathing. It was incredibly shallow and high pitched, with a wheeze accompanying every breath. "That doesn't sound good." Worry quickly clouded Oliver's mind as he pushed Roy back so he was in a sitting position, and looked at his face. The boy's eyes were hazy and unfocused and his skin as paler than normal, almost ashen. The next inhale caused Roy to start coughing again. He covered his mouth with his hands before Oliver could stop him. The man sighed and rubbed Roy's back. When the coughing finally stopped again, Roy pulled his hands away from his face and Oliver's panic quickly became borderline panic. There was a yellow, almost gel-like substance in Roy's hands. "Please tell me that didn't just come out of your lungs." Roy shrugged sluggishly, looked at his hands, then looked at Oliver like he was confused. "Ok. Ok, ok."

Oliver carefully adjusted his grip on the boy and stood up. He pulled Roy up to his chest as he did. He carried Roy to the bathroom as Roy started coughing again. As if by magic, Oliver was suddenly very aware of how unbelievably hot Roy's forehead was as it nestled in his neck. It was scarily obvious of how loud and difficult breathing was. "It's ok. It's ok. You're ok, Roy. You're ok." Oliver set him on the edge of the tub, then used a towel to wipe off his hands. "Don't try to move, ok?"

"Mhm…" Roy started coughing again, so Oliver had him hold the towel to his mouth.

He started looking for a thermometer under the sink, ignoring the stuff Roy had coughed onto his shirt. Thankfully, through some cosmic stroke of good luck, Oliver found a thermometer buried in a first-aid kit. "Thank, God!" He moved quickly to uncap the device, then put it in Roy's mouth. "Keep that there."

"Mmm." Roy simply tried to get back into Oliver's lap, despite his guardian crouching on the ground. "No, Roy. Roy, stop. Roy-" Nothing he said seemed to have any effect, so Oliver was forced to comply. He sat on the ground and let Roy sit in his lap. Roy wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck and put his head against the man's chest.

Oliver sighed and wrapped his arms around Roy. "Ok, fine. You win." The two of them sat there with Roy in Oliver's lap and clinging to him in his feverish haze until the thermometer beeped. Oliver took it out of Roy's mouth and looked at it, only to have his stomach drop and his heart stop.

104.5.

"Shit." Fear gripped Oliver's chest as he gathered Roy up in his arms and stood. "We're going to the hospital."

"Why?"

"Because I might not be a doctor, but even I know that a fever that high is bad news."

"Oh…" Roy started coughing, making Oliver even more scared.

'I have to get him to the doctor.' Oliver just barely remembered to put his shoes on before he left, but didn't bother with Roy. It wasn't like he needed any. Getting the car door open while holding Roy was a challenge, but he managed. Oliver sat him down in the backseat, made sure he was wrapped in his blanket, then buckled him in. "Sit tight, kid, ok?"

Roy nodded as the door shut. He winced, then let his head fall against the window. Part of him wanted to pull away because he was cold and the window was cold, but another part relished how nice the cold window was against his hot skin. All of his attention was focused on the tight feeling in his chest and how much effort he needed to breathe. He started coughing again, wincing as it irritated his sore throat and hurt his chest muscles. His eyelids were heavy, but he fought to keep them open.

The only sound that came from Roy was wheezing and coughing, which caused Oliver to keep glancing back at him as he drove. 'This is all my fault,' he thought as fear continued to squeeze his insides. 'I should've checked on him more often today. I should've made him drink water, that probably would've kept his fever from getting so high.' Oliver's brain couldn't come up with any reason why Roy was this sick, but it just made him want to to get the boy to the hospital faster.

— —

When they finally got there, Oliver practically jumped out of the car. He dashed around the backseat and carefully lifted Roy out of the car. The kid moaned in protest, but it was weakened by the wheezing in his breath. "We're at the hospital now," Oliver reassured Roy as he carried him toward the entrance of the E.R. "The doctors will help you. It's going to be ok. I promise." He walked through the automatic doors and quickly located a nurse at the desk. "Excuse me! I Need help." He looked down at Roy, then back at the nurse. "He's really sick and he has a fever and-"

"Ok, Ok, sir," the nurse said. "Please, calm down." She came around the desk and looked at Roy. As soon as her hand landed on his forehead her frown deepened. "Tracy, which rooms are open?"

"Room 4," said the other nurse who was sitting at the desk.

"Come with me, sir."

Oliver followed the nurse out of the waiting room. She led him into an empty E.R. examination room and, without needing any instruction, set Roy down on the bed. He smoothed back Roy's hair. The front of it was starting to get slick with sweat. "Is the doctor coming?"

"Another nurse will be here in a moment."

"Thank you." Oliver turned to Roy as the nurse left. He carefully unwrapped the blanket and dropped it into a nearby chair. "Someone will be here soon, kid."

"Good…" Roy mumbled. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes still unfocused and clouded with fever. He started coughing again. The force of it made him sit up, so Oliver put an arm around him to support him.

"It's ok, kid. It's ok." The sound of footsteps on the hard floor made him look up. Another nurse with a clipboard walked into the examination room.

"Oh dear, that cough doesn't sound good," she said sympathetically. "Mr.-?"

"Queen."

"Mr. Queen, can you keep him upright so I can take his vitals."

Oliver nodded and sat behind Roy on the bed. The exhausted kid fell back against his body. His head lolled a little bit, so Oliver started running his fingers through his hair. "Just sit tight, kid. Let the nurse do her job."

Thankfully, Roy wasn't fidgety as the nurse took his pulse and blood pressure. Her face stayed neutral as she went through the motions, noting everything down on her clipboard as she went. Her mask almost cracked when she took his temperature, but she quickly wrote it down and seemed to move with more urgency after that. Then she put the stethoscope in her ears and started listening to Roy's breathing. "Can you take a deep breath?" Roy complied. "Exhale." As he did so, a deep frown crossed her lips. She moved it just slightly lower on his chest. "Inhale." Roy did so. "Exhale. Good job." She shook her head and scribbled something on the clipboard.

"What's wrong with him?"

"A doctor will be right in." The nurse left, which only increased Oliver's worry.

'That wasn't a good look on her face. Shit, something's really wrong with him.' Oliver's arms tightened around Roy in a subconscious motion. 'Oh God, what could he have? It's obviously worse than a cold. What kind of diseases can a kid have?!' Roy stated coughing again and Oliver rubbed his arms. Even coughing seemed to shake Roy's body. 'He has to be ok. Please, let him be ok.'

Thankfully, the doctor, an older man who looked like he'd have no funny business, walked into the room with the nurse from before. "Mr. Queen?"

"Yes. This is Roy. He's really sick."

"I can see that." The doctor set the clipboard down, then put his stethoscope in his ears. He put the other end under Roy's shirt. "Can you breathe for me, son?" As Roy followed his instructions, the same frown the nurse had worn crossed the man's features. "Just as I thought." He took the stethoscope away. "I'm going to have some blood-work drawn up and I want him taken down for x-rays."

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

"Some kind of lower respiratory infection. We can't determine what until we get the results." He turned to the nurse. "Draw the blood, then have him taken down to the x-ray lab. X-ray his chest. Let me know as soon as the results are back."

"Right away, Dr. Lloyd," the nurse replied. She left for a moment and the doctor approached Roy.

"You'll need to move away from him."

Oliver hesitated for a moment, then did so. He laid Roy back on the bed gently and the doctor grabbed an oxygen mask. "What's that for?"

"In case it wasn't obvious to you by the wheezing, he's having trouble breathing. I'm going to put this on him to aid that." He put the plastic piece over Roy's mouth, then placed the strap behind his head. He adjusted the angle of the bed. "The nurse will be back momentarily. I'll be back when I have a diagnosis."

"Thank-" The doctor was gone before the 'thank you' was off Oliver's lips. "Ok, then-" He stopped when he felt someone wrap their fingers around his. He looked down and saw Roy was trying to hold his hand. A sad look crossed Oliver's face as he held it. He dragged one of the chairs close to the bed so he could sit and not let go. "You're going to be ok, Roy. The doctor's going to figure out what's wrong, then give you some medicine to make it all better."

The nurse returned with another nurse, as well as a tube attached to a needle. "I'm going to take a blood sample, then we'll take him down for the x-ray."

"Ok." Oliver watched closely as the nurse prepared to take Roy's blood.

"Can you make a fist for me?" Roy did so and she started studying the underside of his arm carefully. "Hmm…. You're very dehydrated, sweetheart. I'll talk to Dr. Llyod about getting you on an IV." She finally found what she was looking for and stuck the needle in his arm.

The grip on Oliver's hand got tighter. "It's ok, it's ok. You're doing great, Roy. Just sit still while they do this. You're doing great, kiddo. Such a good job."

As soon as the blood was down, the nurse put a cover on the tube, then put a cotton ball on Roy's arm. "You did a great job, sweetheart. Very brave."

"Hear that, Roy? The pretty nurse thinks you're brave."

The nurse smiled as she passed the tube off to the other nurse, who left, then took the oxygen mask off.

"Uh, the doctor said that would help him breathe-"

"He'll be ok for the x-ray."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." The nurse started to wheel the bed away and Oliver instinctively moved to follow, but she stopped. "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to wait here."

"But-"

"I promise I'll bring him right back when we're finished."

"…Ok." With extreme reluctance, Oliver let go of Roy's hand. The moan that came from the boy made him regret it almost immediately. Before he could say anything though, the nurse rolled Roy away. Oliver stood there and watched them go. 'It'll be ok, Roy. Everything'll be ok. I promise.' For a few seconds, Oliver paced in the empty room, trying to keep himself calm. 'They'll figure out what's wrong and fix it. That's what doctors do. They fix sick people.'

"Um, excuse me," someone said.

Oliver turned and saw the nurse from the desk standing in the doorway. "What can I do for you?"

"You need to fill out this paperwork." She held out a clipboard with a pen tied to it.

"Oh, thank you." Oliver took the clipboard, then sat down in his chair to fill out the forms. He did his best to stay focused on his assigned task, but his mind kept wandering to Roy. What if he was scared? What kind of parent was Oliver if he left his scared kid, alone in a hospital with a bunch of strangers? 'It's bad enough that I waited as long as I did to bring him here.' By the time he'd finished the forms, the nurse was shelling Roy back into the room. Oliver set the clipboard down on the other chair and jumped to his feet. "Hey, kiddo."

"The doctor will be in as soon as he has the results," the nurse said as she put the oxygen mask back over Roy's face.

"Thank you." Oliver sat back down and held Roy's hand. "Feeling any better?" Roy shook his head. "You'll feel better soon. The doctors will make everything better. I promise. You'll be ok. I promise." The feverish haze that still clouded Roy's normally bright green eyes twisted Oliver's stomach. 'I should've brought him in sooner. He wouldn't be so out of it.' Oliver rubbed the back of Roy's hand with his free one. "It's going to be ok. You'll be better soon." He kept repeating the comforting platitudes, wanting to do anything humanly possible to help his kid. He didn't keep track of the time until the doctor returned.

"It's as I thought," the doctor said as he walked in. "He has pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?"

"Yes. I'm having him admitted because his blood-oxygen levels are low and his fever is dangerously high." He glanced up at Oliver, disapproval written all over his face. "These problems wouldn't be so bad if you'd treated him at home with over the counter medication or brought him in sooner."

Part of Oliver wanted to be angry, or even offended at the older man's accusatory tone, but he didn't feel he had the high ground here. 'Roy's my responsibility, I should've done a better job taking care of him.' He swallowed. "What will you do to make him better."

"I'm having him kept on oxygen and ordering an IV for hydration. For now, we'll give him a general antibiotic until we can run another blood test and narrow down the type of bacteria he has."

"Ok." Oliver picked up the clipboard and Roy's blanket, the latter of which he draped over his arm, as two nurses came in to move Roy. One of the ladies from the desk came and took the clipboard from Oliver, then he followed the two who were rolling Roy down the E.R. 'At least now they'll give him medicine. It'll help him. He'll get better.' He followed the nurses down the hall and into an elevator. Oliver reached out and gently rubbed Roy's hair. When he stepped off the elevator, something in Oliver's stomach twisted at the antiseptic smell. They reached a room and the nurses helped Roy into the other bed. As soon as they moved, Oliver was at Roy's side. He held the kid's hand and started stroking it gently. At some point during the transport, Roy had fallen asleep. "You're going to be better soon, Roy. I promise."

"Knock, knock," someone said as he knocked on the doorframe of the room. "Hi, I'm Jack. I'm the nurse on duty right now."

"This is Roy."

"Hi, Roy." Jack picked up Roy's chart and looked it over. "Pneumonia, hm?"

"Yeah…" Oliver was half prepared for this nurse to passive-aggressively chew him out like to doctor had, but he didn't.

"Happens to the best of us." He wrote somethings down and nodded. "Ok, I'll get started on the IV and we should have the blood test results soon."

"Good."

Jack worked with absolute surety as he put an oxygen mask on Roy's face and adjusted the levels. Then he left and returned with two bags, which he attached to the IV poles. "You'll feel better once we hydrate you."

"How long until the antibiotics start working?"

Jack gave him an amused look. "Longer than a couple minutes. These are a general type that will keep his infection from getting worse."

"When will I be able to take him home?"

"When his temperature is at least down to 100 degrees and his blood-oxygen levels are normal again. At that point it's likely the doctor will prescribe an antibiotic and inhaler he can take at home."

"Oh. So I'd have to give him the medicine?"

"Yes, but the antibiotic will be oral and inhaler just in case he has continued trouble breathing. It's a standard treatment plan."

"Good."

Jack gave him a strange look. "You don't seem extremely thrilled by that."

"Well… I didn't know how to help him before. What if I mess it up and he gets worse again?"

Jack looked at Roy's chart again. "You saw Dr. Lloyd in the E.R.?"

"Is it obvious?"

"Yeah. He has a habit of…being a little more blunt than necessary."

"I noticed."

Jack smiled at Oliver. "Your son is the 20th case that's been admitted in the past two weeks. Getting pneumonia doesn't constitute medical neglect." He went back to fiddling with the IV's. "You're a first time parent, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You spend 15 years as a pediatric nurse, you catch on to some things. You're lucky though. Most new parents have infants who are at a much higher risk of complications. Your son is healthy other than having pneumonia. He'll be better in no time."

"I hope so." After the nurse left, Oliver took Roy's blanket and draped it over his body. Then he sat back in his chair and slouched so he could watch Roy sleep. The only sound was the heart monitor and the occasional beeping from somewhere in the hall. Time seemed to move in the slowest increments before the nurse returned, this time with a new IV bag.

"Good news, we've identified the bacteria that your son has," Jack said as he changed out the IV bags. "Look like he needs more saline as well."

"Thank you." Oliver ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "So he'll get better now?"

"Most likely."

"Most likely?"

"There are some strains of bacteria that are resistant to the antibiotics."

"Resistant? So he might not get better?!"

"It's too soon to tell that. The kind he has usually responds well to a normal antibiotic regime."

"Oh. Good." Oliver tried to relax after that, but it was hard with the idea that the bacteria making Roy sick could be resistant to the medicine. 'He'll get better. He'll get better. He has to.'

— —

As awareness came back to Roy, he was more aware of the tightness in his chest. He frowned at the piece of plastic that was covering his mouth and breathing air into his throat. 'Oh, I'm in the hospital.' He ran his hand along the blanket that covered his body. 'That's my blanket. I'd know the feeling anywhere.' He opened his eyes and a weak smile crossed his face. Oliver slept in a chair next to the hospital bed, one hand keeping his head up. Roy reached out, thankfully the IV was on his other arm. "Ollie…" His voice was weak and muffled from the oxygen mask. "O… Ollie…" Roy looked around and saw a water bottle that someone had left on his bed. He grabbed the bottle, then threw it at Oliver.

"Huh?!" Oliver's head snapped up and he looked around. "Roy. You're awake!" He leaned forward and grabbed the kid's hand. "Are you ok- What am I saying, of course, you're not. Do you want me to get the nurse or…someone else with medical training?"

Roy shook his head. "Want…you…" He reached out and Oliver took his hand. "Stay…"

"Don't worry, kid, I'm not going anywhere."

Roy coughed. "Good." He closed his eyes again and squeezed Oliver's hand. "…Love you…"

Oliver smiled as he covered the hand he held with his other one. "I love you too, Roy."


End file.
